


Bad Day

by rethrin



Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-10 22:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rethrin/pseuds/rethrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the meme prompt: "Jared having the absolute worst day with everything going wrong and Peter somehow making the whole day worth it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Set somewhere after 105, so we've met Jared's dad. But before 109, so we haven't met Nathan.

Jared went to work at eight thirty in the morning. 

He picked up the files he needed for court and started flicking through them, then flinched as the paper cut his finger. He swore and threw the file down in disgust. It promptly caught his coffee in retaliation, tipping it over the desk. The coffee aimed straight for the tax forms Jared had spent most of yesterday filling out, then quickly soaked through his pile of unread post, before finally pouring over the edge of the desk and into Jared's lap. He swore some more, picked the damp file up and threw it on the floor. He would have stamped on it for good measure, except he was busy trying to stop the coffee burning him through his pants. 

He had court. And meetings. And a million grown up responsible reasons that he wasn't allowed to go home and get wasted and sleep. He mopped up the desk as well as he could, drained the last mouthful of coffee that had remained in the cup, and sank back into his chair, frowning at Peter's empty desk. 

He picked up the first letter in his in-box and read about four lines before it looked difficult and boring. He put his head in his hands, and yearned for sleep. 

Debbie opened the door and coughed politely. Jared didn't look up.

"Are you having a nice morning, Debbie?"

"Very nice, thank you, Jared."

"That's good. I'm happy for you."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, perfectly alright, couldn't be better, awesome," Jared replied in a monotone, still not moving.

"O-kay then," Debbie said. "These are the files the DA's office sent over for the Roader case." 

She went to put the papers on the desk, but then noticed it was sticky and put them on the side instead.

"Do you want me to fetch you another cup of coffee?"

Jared didn't want her to fetch him coffee, he wanted her to be awful so that he could be irritated by her and blame her for things. He just shook his head, and sat up apologetically. She probably didn't need him being awkward, no matter how nice her morning was being.

"Sorry."

"When is he back?"

Jared looked up at her sharply. "What's that got to do with . . . I spilt coffee!"

Debbie just nodded. 

"I didn't spill my coffee because Peter's not here." Jared was getting tired of people acting like he was incapable of coping with the smallest thing just because Peter was away. 

"I didn't say that you did. You have a meeting in the boardroom at ten." She left, closing the door gently behind her. 

Jared looked grimly at all the work in front of him, and swore softly under his breath. He frowned at Peter's desk again. "Two days," he muttered, in reply to Debbie's question. Four days down, two to go. 

Not that he was counting, not that he was pissed. It was fine for Peter to go swanning off to Vegas for the bachelor party holiday thing of some guy he had barely even seen since high school, and it was fine for Peter to leave him here, in a stupid massive office in a company Jared didn't even want to work for and wouldn't be working for if it wasn't for Peter, and fine that he had to go to a boring board meeting on his own with no one to play tic tac toe with. That was fine. He was pissed because he'd spilt his damned coffee and scratched his car and had a paper cut on his finger and hadn't slept. 

He nodded, glad to have that sorted, and picked up another letter and attempted to read it and care.

  


********************************************************************************

  


He got home at seven thirty that evening.

He paid the taxi and watched it drive away. He was drenched to the skin, exhausted and freezing. And he ached. He trudged up the path to the cave, and hoped nobody would be there. He just wanted to get in a shower, and get warm, and hide for a few hours. In the morning he'd have to call Peter, and Peter wouldn't mind. He might even come home tomorrow instead of the day after. Jared didn't have energy left to feel guilty for wanting that. 

He pushed open the door, and Peter jumped up from the couch.

"Dude, where've you been? No one at the office knew . . " He broke off as he took in Jared's wet clothes, the mud plastering half his jacket and trousers. He smiled, and might have laughed only Jared wasn't smiling. "What happened to you?"

Jared stared for a moment, then furrowed his eyebrows. "Why are you...? When did..?" 

Peter grabbed a towel from the kitchen on his way past. "I drove back early." 

As he passed the towel over he noticed a nasty scrape down Jared's hand, and blood on his forehead, and his smile disappeared. He reached out to stroke Jared's hair back, looking to see where he was hurt. "What happened to you?"

Jared pushed his hand gently aside, but he held it for a few seconds before he let go. 

"I'm fine, it's just blood from my hand. It's only a scratch." He dried his face on the towel, wiping the mud off, and then ran it over his hair too. "I fell in a ditch."

"Where did you find a ditch?" Peter asked. He was frowning because Jared's hand had been cold, and he was almost shivering. Up close he looked drained and a bit shaken. "You sure you're okay?" 

Jared nodded, and touched Peter's arm as he moved past him, towards the kitchen. "I need a beer. How was Vegas?"

"Seriously cool. One of the guys got us a chance to play a bit of a gig in one of the clubs, like the old days. We pretty much blew, but it didn't matter. Ben hasn't seen sober for the last 72 hours, he's going to feel like hell at the wedding, but it'll be worth it."

Jared opened a beer, and changed the subject to things that weren't Peter enjoying spending time with his stupid high school friends who'd always judged him for hanging out with guys from Hightower, and who therefore - in Jared's opinion - could all fuck off.

"Why're you back?"

"You're seriously not going to tell me why you've come home looking like a tsunami hit?"

Jared drank more beer. "Today sucked. We should sue someone for a do-over."

Peter watched Jared trying to rub warmth into his hands, and put the kettle on. Something warm would do him more good than beer. "We can't. We promised we'd only sue God once a year, remember?"

Jared frowned. "Well, I didn't know he hated me when I agreed to that."

Peter smiled, he spooned honey into a mug, and then squeezed in lemon syrup. It was what Jared drank when he was sick. "Come on, how bad can it have been? Latin Camp bad, or The Betsy Field Case bad?"

Jared sighed, and it turned into a yawn. He'd spent most of the day wanting to talk to Peter about this, but now he was here he just wanted to relax and pretend none of it was real. "Grey Thursday bad."

Peter's eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

"Yeah." 

Grey Thursday had been four years ago, they'd lost three cases in one afternoon, each of them important, each of them leaving them feeling guilty and hopeless. They'd shared a packet of chewing gum and a six-pack of beer for supper while shooting darts at the pile of bills they weren't paying. Then Jared had cut his foot throwing a glass at a rat in the kitchen, and broken two fingers when he fell backwards as a result. 

Peter swapped Jared's beer for the warm mug, which Jared closed his hands around gratefully. Peter took a swallow from the remaining beer and leaned back against the counter. "Come on then, lay it on me."

Jared took a couple of sips, and tried to pick out the important parts of everything that sucked about today. 

"I screwed up with Alan Roader. The judge denied him bail, and I got fined for contempt when I objected. He's spending a night in prison, so his kids are stuck with his mom. Then I drove out to find the waitress who's his alibi, and my car," he made hand movements indicating terrible confusion, "broke. I left it in a hedge miles from anywhere and I had to walk back to civilisation. I fell in a ditch near a building site, my ankle hurts, the taxi charged me double fare because of the mud, and I've lost my phone."

Jared drank again, the warm steam from the cup felt like heaven. He rubbed a hand through his hair, and Peter knew he hadn't been sleeping. Jared looked up and Peter was watching him, waiting for the rest.

"And I got served."

"Dude. And you didn't call me? Who by?"

"Remember the Greenings case from last year? They're suing for malpractice. Apparently I showed negligence, taking the ducks into court, and the parrot."

Peter raised his eyebrows. It had been years since they'd been sued for malpractice. "That case stank, you only took it because they were desperate, and we hadn't had a job in three weeks. The ducks were your only chance. They can't make that stick."

Jared nodded, looking at the floor. He looked like hell.

"You should get cleaned up, and dried out. I'll order pizza, or if you're up to it we can go out, eat steak, get drunk?"

Jared shook his head. "Can I take a rain check til tomorrow? God's not playing fair, he might send lightning, or sharks, or anything. And you wouldn't even be allowed to take him to court for it."

"If you die, I promise I'll sue God," Peter said sincerely.

Jared lifted his mug as a toast to friendship, and gave a tiny smile that reached his eyes.

"But I can't do tomorrow, we can go at the weekend." Peter said, terribly casually.

"Oh?"

Peter shook his head, ignoring the question as though it didn't matter. "You should get changed, you're freezing." 

He started clearing around, moving some of the general detritus of the last few days into the sink, but when he looked around again Jared was watching him, brows furrowed. 

"What?"

"Why are you back?"

"It's nothing." Peter looked at him innocently, not wanting to say. Then tilted his head and sighed. "Janie called, I'm seeing her tomorrow."

Jared didn't move. There it was. He should have known that Peter wasn't here to make his day better, because today didn't work like that. He drank deeply again, and raised his eyebrows to ask for an explanation even though he wanted nothing of the kind. 

"Her fiancé called it off. She was pretty upset."

Jared felt his last strands of strength unravelling inside. 

"Oh," he said, gripping the mug tightly to keep himself from smashing it on the floor. 

Peter went back to tidying round. "I said I'd take her to dinner tomorrow, she needed someone to talk to."

And just the chance to talk to her had brought him racing back to town, Jared thought. He could feel himself backing out of the kitchen, and he knew he must look like an idiot because his face was suddenly hot, and his eyes were stinging. He tried to smile, but knew it wasn't really working. And it wasn't fair, because it wasn't this, it was just everything else and then this as well. It wasn't just this.

"That's great. That's _nice_." He turned away quickly. "Look, I'm going to grab a shower and then . . . I think I'll just go to bed okay, I'm shattered. And we can catch up tomorrow, yeah?" 

He headed for his room, grateful when Peter didn't try to stop him.

Safely behind his door he leaned heavily against the wall, shaking and suddenly truly exhausted. He wondered if his dad and Janie talked, maybe held planning meetings, co-ordinating their attacks. If so, they'd really outdone themselves this time. He sighed, then started stripping off wet clothes, he left them in a pile by the door and went off to cry in the shower.

  


********************************************************************************

  


He was in bed with a pillow over his head when Peter came in. He heard him kick off his shoes and come over to the bed, felt him pause for half a moment, before pulling the covers back and getting in. Jared waited a few seconds, and then peered out from under his pillow. Peter held out an arm and Jared shifted a bit nearer, taking hold of Peter's hand between them.

"God, you're freezing," Peter said, and immediately pulled Jared closer, taking him in his arms, and running his hands down Jared's thin t-shirt. The warmth made Jared shiver, and he pressed gratefully into Peter's chest. The hot shower had helped, but this was better.

"Sorry about before," Jared said quietly.

Peter shook his head, "Doesn't matter."

"I'll be happy for you tomorrow."

"It's nothing."

Peter stroked his fingers through Jared's hair. Jared knew he was checking for a cut he'd already told him didn't exist. But his hand was warm, and afterwards it curled around the back of Jared's neck, and he dipped his head lower, and Peter kept stroking him, and Jared was too tired to be embarrassed about it. After a while he stopped shivering.

"Pindar's going to do some work on the Roader case, get us some court time first thing tomorrow," Peter said quietly. "And Carmen's going to track down your waitress. I called triple A about the car and ordered pizza. Thought we could double bill Ghost and Road House," Ghost was Jared's favourite Patrick Swayze film, although only Peter knew that. "And then I figured I'd give you a blow job to make up for being a jerk."

Jared snorted laughter in surprise. Not because it hadn't happened before, but usually they were drunker. 

"You weren't a jerk," he said, squeezing Peter tight for a second. 

"Alright then, I won't."

"Hey!" Jared said, smiling. But then he shook his head and started to draw back from Peter. "You can't anyway." At Peter's raised eyebrows he went on, "Look, just go. I'll be happy for you tomorrow, but I can't deal with it now." 

Peter stared at him, not letting go. "Deal with what?"

"You and Janie, moving in together, getting married, happily ever after."

"What?"

"I can't talk to you about it now, I'm -"

"I'm not marrying Janie."

Jared made a dismissive wave. "You will. That's what people do when they get back together. Like they have to make a point."

"We're not getting back together. It's just dinner." 

Jared rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you rushed home just for dinner."

Peter frowned at him and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't _rush_ home." He kind of shrugged. "I'd been there for days anyway, and I guess it wasn't as much fun as it could have been. It was a good excuse to leave a bit early. It's not a big deal."

Jared didn't exactly believe him, but when Peter took hold of his hand he let him. Peter ran his thumb across the scratch, it was long, but not deep, running down the side of Jared's hand and over his wrist. For half a second Jared wondered if he'd kiss it, wondered if he wanted to. Sometimes, when they were alone, Peter was really kind of soft with him and Jared was absolutely okay with that. But Peter didn't kiss him, just kept hold of his hand. 

"Are you going to tell me the rest?"

Jared shook his head without thinking, but then sighed because he knew he'd have to, and sooner rather than later. He glanced up, then down, then took a deep breath. 

"Dad's their lawyer." Saying it out loud seemed to take all the strength he had left, and he started shivering again which felt pretty pathetic. "The Greenings. He's helping them sue me."

" _What_?"

"Yeah," he looked up again and tried to smile. "Isn't he swell?"

Peter struggled to find words for what Leonard Franklin was. 

"They say I'm incompetent and negligent and basically useless. And dad agrees with them that I'm useless, and _incompetent_ , and now he gets to say so in court, in front of everyone."

"Dude. He's messed up."

Jared nodded and tried to swallow, but his throat was thick, "I know. I just wish he'd fuck off. I really . . ." He moved closer to Peter and Peter willingly pulled him in tight. Jared whispered against his throat, his voice breaking on the words, "Sometimes I really hate him." 

"I know." Peter held him for a long few minutes. He should have known it would be Leonard. He should have been here. "Why the hell didn't you call me?"

Jared didn't answer, just shrugged. 

"It's okay," Peter said. "It doesn't change anything. He hasn't got a case, you didn't do anything wrong."

Jared half nodded, but he was thinking about something else. Peter held him and waited until he was ready.

"I just shouldn't have told him I knew. About his affairs, I shouldn't have said anything." He didn't even sound upset now, just tired and resigned, almost detached. "He's angry because he knows I know he's a dick, and because I said I didn't want to see him. He just can't bear it, he won't leave me alone now because that would be like letting me win. I shouldn't have said anything."

Peter watched him taking deep breaths, too tired to cry. 

"I just hate him. And he's making it so I have to see him. So he gets his own way. And I was hopeless in court against him."

"What? You won."

"But I let him get to me. And that wasn't even personal." Jared's voice had fallen even quieter, he hardly sounded like himself at all. It was a voice Peter knew, it was the voice Jared used when he was younger, whenever he started to believe the things his dad said, it was the voice he'd used when he'd let his dad pick his colleges, and when he'd decided to quit the band, and when he'd decided to stop seeing Shirley Thorpe. "He'll win this time, and I could be disbarred, or at least suspended. And it'll be on my record. Infeld would have to fire me. And they could bankrupt me. Us." He shook his head. "I can't go into court against him again. I'll have to settle somehow, work something out."

" _Dude_ ," Peter stroked his thumb over the back of Jared's neck, brushing the fine hair there. "You're not settling. It'll be thrown out long before it goes to court, and even if it does then I'll be there. Come on, a father misusing the justice system to get back at his son, jealous you didn't go to work for him. He's siding against you because of personal issues, we'll make him look petty and unprofessional. And we'll annoy the fuck out of him while we do it."

Jared looked up and Peter held his gaze steadily. Just that made Jared feel a bit calmer. And the thought of Peter defending him in court didn't feel awful either. 

"He is petty," he said, with a slight pout. 

Peter nodded agreement. "It'll be okay."

Peter's eyes didn't even flicker as he said it and Jared felt reassurance start threading itself through his insides, in among the heavy worry. He didn't know how Peter did that, but it was pretty amazing.

"You don't have to think about it now. We'll work it out in the morning," Peter said, just like that, as if he could just make everything better. 

Jared smiled because Peter was going to make everything better.

"Thanks." He shifted a bit in Peter's arms, hiding his face in Peter's shoulder. After a minute or two he said, "If she breaks your heart again, I'll light her hair on fire." 

Peter smiled and smoothed Jared's t-shirt down over his back. "She won't. I'm not . . . All the reasons we broke up are still there." He stroked Jared's arm. "Anyway you'd do time for battery and assault. They'd be hard on you because she's with the DA."

"Doesn't matter, she shouldn't have messed with you."

"Okay, but it's going to be harder to get you off the malpractice thing if you're in prison."

Jared half laughed and nodded that it probably would be. 

They were quiet then for a few minutes, and neither of them moved apart. Jared was nearly asleep when the bell rang and Peter went to fetch the pizza. Jared watched him go and smiled. Peter was going to watch Ghost with him even though he hated it. And maybe suck his dick. And he'd sleep here tonight. That alone made him feel lighter than he had for days. He wriggled happily. Janie and his dad were going to have to try harder, because he had Peter on his side, and that was just about all he'd ever needed.


End file.
